Litobora
by All Around Loon
Summary: someone from the past shows up to shaking things up, it's definitely not going to end well.


_So, I started this a long time ago and never thought about it again. The timeline of this story will become clear the more you read it, and it won't be a very long one. Look at it like a 2 episode arc, and it might fool you into believe it's a love story, but don't get too comfortable. This is the supernatural universe after all. Review, criticize, do whatever you want! Enjoy!_

 _-A.A.L_

* * *

 _Chapter 1, 'Fire' by Bruce Springsteen_

 _February 2003 - Simpson, Louisiana_

The bar was crowded for a tuesday night. Dean and John Winchester were deep in Louisiana, the trail on an incubi had gone cold, they needed help. John had a lot of contacts, and Dean assumed one of them was somewhere in this bar. He looked around at the gruff looking men, all shouting, beer dripping off beards, peanuts falling to the floor- it could be any of them.

Dean could tell which were hunters, they had a certain air about them. It also didn't hurt they were usually carrying a very colorful assortment of weapons. If a bar brawl broke out, well, it would be a mess.

"Dean, go to the bar and grab a drink. I'll be out in ten."

"Yes, sir." He answered, watching his father weave and then disappear into the crowd. The bar was strangely devoid of pretty women, which was a downer in itself, but they had liquor. Twenty minutes later Dean hadn't made any friends, but he was getting on pretty well with a bottle of bourbon.

As if by magic, the jukebox switched on somewhere behind him.

 _'Im drivin' in my car, I turn on the radio. Im pullin' you close, you just say no.'_

Dean wasn't the biggest fan of The Boss, but the liquor was convincing him to mouth along to the song. He knew every word thanks to his father. "Dean. Let's go." Speak of the devil. He turned, finishing his last shot and nearly spit it out all over the floor.

Standing next to his father was probably the only attractive woman in the bar. "Hiya, Dean."

"This is Corey. She's been tracking the same son of a bitch, says she's got a lead up by Shreveport."

"I thought Corey was a dude." Dean said, wiping his mouth and following his father out the front door.

"Sorry to disappoint you." She said, slamming the door to the bar closed behind her. The swell of bruce Springsteen's 'Fire' could still be heard through the wood and steel of the bar. "Alright, Johnny-"

"Johnny?" Dean said, cocking an eyebrow. "Dad, how do we even know this chick?"

"Be nice, Dean." He said, sighing and leaning against the shiny black of the impala. "She's a friend of a friend."

"Your dad has a knack for saving my ass." Corey provided, crossing her arms. "At least that's the short version. Can we get back to business? This thing fried some chick up north about twenty four hours ago. So-"

"He'll already be stalking his next victim." John answered, running a hand over his beard.

"Which means we should get a move on if we wanna catch up to him by morning." There was a lull in conversation, and Dean just looked between the two, annoyed. He wasn't the biggest fan of taking orders, much less from some woman his father seemed to blindly trust.

"You riding with us?" John asked, and she shook her head.

"I got my car, you wanna take the back roads?"

"Like always."

"Which'll put us in Shreveport in about two hours. Stop at the Moonlight Drive motel, I gotta room set up." She tossed him a key, which he caught. "Race ya'."

It began to rain about an hour into the drive and the yellow camaro they were following was barely visible ahead. It was rare that Dean bickered with his father, but it was rarer that his father allowed another hunter to assist them on a job.

Much less a woman that couldn't be older then himself.

"I just don't understand, Dad."

"You don't have to understand."

"This is reckless-"

"Don't you challenge my authority, boy. I know what I'm doing. She needs our help, so we're gonna give it."

"Wait, _she_ needs _our_ help? I thought she was helping us."

John sighed, sticking his tongue in his cheek. "She's been tracking this thing for a while, and it got ahead of her."

"So you started tracking it for her! Dad, what the hell? Who is this chick?" His father didn't answer, and Dean rolled his eyes into the darkness outside the window. "So we're picking up the slack on her job because?"

"Because Incubi's are nasty son's a bitches and she can't handle it by herself."

"And what makes her so special?"

He paused. "I promised someone I would look after her, now drop it."

"But-"

"Dean."

 _Present Day_

"Don't you die on me, Girl!"

When the boys burst into Bobby Singer's house, the first thing Dean noticed was the tangled mess of strawberry blonde hair. He froze in his tracks, swallowing hard. Sam did a double take back towards his brother, and then back to Bobby. He was on the floor, cradling a petite, beaten up girl. "Bobby, who is that?"

"Corey."

It was Dean who answered, and a second later he rushed past Sam to kneel next to Bobby. She whined a little and Bobby turned to Dean, "Put her on that couch over there." Dean did as he was told, looking back to Sam with wide, fearful eyes.

"That's Corey?" Sam asked, confused.

Before Dean could answer, Bobby returned with what looked like a hex bag. Pulling up Corey's shirt, he revealed her stomach and placed the bag above her belly button. At once, she inhaled and began to cough, her eyes snapping open with panic. "Bobby- Dean?" Dean cleared his throat, standing up and stepping away. He waved once and Bobby raised an eyebrow, turning back to Corey. "Bobby, tell me you killed it."

He didn't answer, just shook his head no. She cursed under her breathe, but froze after shifting her leg. "What is it?" Dean asked, and Bobby laid a hand on his forehead.

"She got me, didn't she."

"We'll find a way-"

"No, we won't. You know that."

"What got her?" Sam asked, and she sat up, looking him dead in the face.

"You're Sam Winchester."

He smiled slightly. "And you're Corey Brewer."

"Yeah, Yeah- What got you, Corey?" Dean asked, impatient, and Corey rolled her eyes, letting out a sigh.

"I was tracking The Litobora."

"The Poison Demon? I thought she was dead." Sam provided.

"Turns out no. I caught a whiff of her down in Florida, and tracked her up north. I called Bobby for some help, but turns out, he was too late."

"But she-"

"Infects you with a poison that kills you about twenty four hours later."

"And you're leg-"

"I've got demon scratch fever."

Bobby spoke up, "I bought you some time with that bag. Maybe we can find a way to reverse it."

Corey and Dean finally caught each others eye, and it was Dean that spoke first. "In the meantime, let's go kill that nasty bitch."


End file.
